


The Lines We'll Trace

by SeeTheVision



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Flash Forward, Fluff and Angst, High School, M/M, Misunderstandings, Near Death Experiences, Precognition, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Superpowers, Telekinesis, kinda like bnha, or sky high, sort of like a soulmate au but not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeTheVision/pseuds/SeeTheVision
Summary: “My name is Chenle Zhong,” the boy said, face so serious Jeno expected a death threat, but what he heard instead was: “I’m your future husband.”(Knowing the future should make things easier. It doesn't)
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 36
Kudos: 194
Collections: Chenji + '00





	The Lines We'll Trace

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #CJ016
> 
> the title is from laughter lines by bastille, which perfectly fits the vibe of the fic.
> 
> here's the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7C01E9zD6G7tpMXcQn8MEN?si=PCzTRit3SuuQY6N0rS-Yzw&utm_source=copy-link) for this fic if you'd like to check it out!

Unfortunately for Jeno, being telekinetic never stopped him from being clumsy. He barely managed to reach out with his thoughts in time to catch his books before they hit the floor, but the boy he’d run into wasn’t so lucky.

“Ouch,” the boy grumbled, rubbing at his chin, which had collided solidly with Jeno’s shoulder.

“Oh my god, dude, I’m so sorry,” Jeno babbled, scrambling to his feet and holding his hand out to assist the other. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He peered up at Jeno from under a messy fringe of dark hair, a frown creasing his brow, and accepted his hand. As Jeno tried to help him to his feet, however, the boy’s legs went limp as his eyes flashed momentarily pure white. Jeno barely avoided dropping him.

With a blink, the boy’s eyes returned to dark brown, but he stared at Jeno as if he’d seen a ghost. 

“Jeno Lee,” he gasped, clutching at Jeno’s arms.

“Uh, yeah?” Jeno tried to pull his arms free, but this kid’s grip was like steel. Maybe his ability was superstrength, but Jeno figured if that were the case, he wouldn’t have been knocked over so easily. “Do I know you?”

“My name is Chenle Zhong,” the boy said, face so serious Jeno expected a death threat, but what he heard instead was: “I’m your future husband.”

***

_The man stood surrounded by white roses, contrasting sharply against his black hair and black tuxedo. When he turned his head and made eye contact with Chenle, the smile that stretched across his face was blinding, curling his eyes into sweet curves that reminded Chenle of crescent moons. The flutter that Chenle’s heart gave in response was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He took another step down the aisle, everything in him wanting nothing more than to reach the end and stand across the altar from this man—_

_And then the vision ended._

***

As far as mornings went, this one would go on Chenle’s list of Worst Ever. He slept through his alarm, didn’t even have time to comb his hair, and arrived at the school just as the warning bell began to chime. Despite his best efforts, he was still late for his Time Manipulation Theory class due to a literal run-in with possibly the cutest boy he’d ever laid eyes on, who he’d managed to make a fool of himself in front of within ten seconds due to an abysmally timed Inevitability vision—oh, and did he mention that they’re destined to get married?

After apologizing to his teacher for his tardiness, Chenle collapsed into his chair and rested his forehead on the desk.

 _Rough morning?_ A familiar voice spoke in his mind. Chenle didn’t even bother turning to look at Renjun across the room.

_You could say that._

Renjun projected the mental version of a snicker into Chenle’s mind. _I’ve never heard someone sigh internally like that before. Wanna talk about it?_

Not bothering to try and put the mortifying experience into words, Chenle simply pushed the recent memory into the forefront of his thoughts, playing it like a movie for Renjun’s entertainment— starting from waking up late and ending with Jeno Lee tugging free from his grasp with a thoroughly freaked out expression on his face, snatching his levitating textbooks out of the air, and taking off down the hallway.

 _Wow,_ Renjun responded, _that’s a lot to take in._

_Tell me about it._

Renjun hummed thoughtfully. _How do you know that was you in the vision? Maybe you were seeing him marry someone else._

Chenle shook his head, even though he wasn’t sure Renjun was looking at him. _I see other people’s Inevitabilities in third person, like watching a movie. It was_ me _this time._

“Mr. Huang,” their teacher interrupted the mental conversation, “do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”

“No, sir,” replied Renjun out loud, severing the mental connection.

***

“I can’t believe you got proposed to first thing in the morning,” cackled Mark, his fingers freezing against Jeno’s arm even through his ever-present gloves.

“Are we surprised?” Donghyuck heckled, phasing his hand straight through the canvas of his backpack to grab his lunch bag as they headed toward the cafeteria. “Jeno Lee, resident heartthrob, best basketball player in the school—”

“That’s just because of his Trait,” Mark cut in, “not because he’s actually good at it.”

“I’m still sad they wouldn’t let me on the team,” Jeno pouted.

“Yeah yeah,” Mark rolled his eyes, “whatever. Back to your future husband?”

“Don’t call him that,” Jeno snapped, raising his voice over the babble as they reached the lunchroom and made a beeline for their usual table. “It was so weird, dude, his eyes were _glowing.”_

“Not that weird,” Donghyuck pointed out. “Yangyang’s eyes glow when his Trait activates.”

“Okay fine. But the whole interaction was weird. I mean, who says that the first time they meet someone?”

“Did he even tell you his name?” asked Mark.

Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he tried to remember. “Something Zhong, I think?”

“Chenle Zhong?” Jisung barely dodged the fork that Jeno reflexively sent flying at his face. “Geez, tone it down a bit!”

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Jisung grinned, momentarily flickering out of sight. “What’s the point of turning invisible if I don’t eavesdrop every so often?” Flopping into the seat next to Donghyuck, he raised an eyebrow at Jeno. “So Chenle Zhong proposed to you this morning?”

“No, he just introduced himself as my future husband.”

“Which is a ballsy first move, gotta say,” Mark interjected. “I’ve met Chenle, I think he’s on the basketball team.”

“Do you know him, Jisung?” asked Donghyuck.

“He’s in my Trait Management class,” Jisung explained. “He’s chill, doesn’t seem the type to make a move on someone like that. What exactly happened?”

As Jeno recounted the events of that morning, a range of expressions flickered across his face(maybe it was a side effect of being invisible so often, but he was always transparent with his emotions). By the time Jeno finished his story, an amused smirk had settled on Jisung’s lips.

“Jeno, do you know what Chenle’s trait is?” he asked, like a patient teacher asking for the answer of two plus two.

“No, I just met him this morning!” Jeno huffed. 

“Huh. Well, you’ll figure it out soon, I imagine. Congrats on your engagement!” With that, he disappeared, along with the cookie from Mark’s lunch, before Jeno could demand to know what that meant. 

“That little gremlin,” Mark grumbled, gazing sadly at the place where his cookie used to be.

“Why does he have to be so _ominous_ all the time,” Jeno complained as Donghyuck, who had apparently lost interest in the conversation, pressed his water bottle against Mark’s exposed wrist to chill it.

***

“Look on the bright side,” said Jaemin, “you already know what’s going to happen! You can’t mess up if you tried.”

“Not comforting,” Chenle scowled. “I don’t even know this Jeno guy. What if he’s a dick? What if I don’t _want_ to marry him?”

“Oh come on, he can’t be that bad,” said Renjun. “He’s in a couple of my classes and he seems nice enough. He helped you up, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, and then he ran away!”

“To be fair, you do look pretty freaky when you do your whole clairvoyant thing,” Jaemin pointed out.

“I’m not clairvoyant, I’m precognitive,” Chenle corrected. “Which sucks because I only see events I can’t change.”

“Oh I can see the future,” Jaemin whined in a perfect imitation of Chenle’s voice. “My super cool Trait is such a burden.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin snapped his mouth shut with the sound of a lock click. Chenle rolled his eyes.

***

“So, seen Chenle Zhong lately?”

Jeno’s concentration snapped, the tower of blocks he’d been carefully stacking with his power clattering across the ground. “Dammit Hyuck, I’m trying to focus.” Donghyuck smiled innocently in response to Jeno’s annoyed scowl. Usually, he liked having Trait Management, one of his favorite classes, with his best friend, but today Donghyuck was on his last nerve.

“It was just a question, Jen,” trilled Donghyuck, “no need to get so worked up.” With a nudge of his will, Jeno sent one of the wooden blocks flying at Donghyuck’s forehead, but it passed through as though he was made of smoke. Stupid density manipulation Trait.

Instead of answering, Jeno busied himself with rebuilding his block tower. Focusing such delicate movements with his Trait had always been difficult for him, and how he was distracted. He _had_ seen Chenle lately. He seemed to pop up everywhere; Jeno could hardly walk down the hall without catching a glimpse of him, and somehow each glimpse turned into a full glance. Without meaning to, Jeno had memorized Chenle’s features from a distance: his sculpted cheeks that softened when he smiled, his dark hair that appeared black at first glance but was really midnight blue, the way his naturally downturned lips were so often parted in a laugh.

The block tower toppled. Jeno sighed.

“You’re weirdly tense today,” Donghyuck pressed as the bell rang signaling the end of class. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeno was spared from refuting a second time by the arrival of Jisung, who materialized next to them in the hallway with his camera slung around his neck. 

“Are either of you going to the basketball game tomorrow?” he asked.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” said Donghyuck. “Why?”

“I have to take photos for the school newspaper,” Jisung scrunched his nose in annoyance.

“You don’t even like being in the newspaper club. Why don’t you just quit?” Jeno asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Oh, right,” said Donghyuck with a smirk, catching on immediately, “it’s because the club president is so pretty. What was his name again, Jeno?”

“Renjun Huang?”

“ _Anyway,”_ interrupted Jisung, once again invisible(probably to hide the flush of his cheeks), “will one of you come to the game with me? I don’t want to go alone.”

“Just ask _Renjun_ to go with you,” teased Donghyuck, grasping in the seemingly-empty air for Jisung. Judging by the yelp, Jeno guessed Jisung got poked in the eye. Served him right for disappearing in the middle of a conversation; that was just bad etiquette.

“I’ll go with you,” Jeno relented. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“We have an essay due on Friday,” Donghyuck reminded him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “Fine, but don’t ask me for help when you’re trying to write the whole thing the night before.”

***

It wasn't as though Chenle had been entirely unaware of Jeno's existence, but he'd never spared him a second thought. He existed on the edges of Chenle's awareness, just one more upperclassman he saw in the hallways from time to time. Going from complete strangers to future spouses in the space of a few seconds was jarring, to say the least—especially considering the change was one-sided. Technically, they were _still_ complete strangers.

"Hey, Sungchan," Chenle ventured as they tugged their jerseys over their heads, "do you know Jeno Lee?"

Sungchan hummed in confirmation. "Yeah, I used to hang out with his crowd back when I was dating Donghyuck."

"What- what is he like?"

"Seems nice," Sungchan shrugged. "Never really talked to him one on one. Why?"

"Just wondering," Chenle mumbled, taking his time double knotting his shoes to avoid meeting Sungchan's inquisitive gaze. He’d heard the same from both Jaemin and Renjun, who were in Jeno’s grade—he was nice, but not particularly outgoing. He seemed content with his small circle of friends, leaving Chenle wondering where he could fit himself into Jeno’s life.

Assuming he wanted to. And assuming Jeno would want him there.

***

Jeno fervently wished to be anywhere other than this hot, noisy gym. As soon as he and Jisung had found vacant seats near the top of the bleachers, the basketball team exited the locker room to raucous cheers. 

“There’s your future husband,” Jisung crowed, elbowing Jeno in the ribs, and Jeno immediately regretted every choice he’d ever made.

It wasn’t that Jeno disliked Chenle—hell, he hardly knew the guy—but every time Jeno caught a glimpse of him, he had the unsettling feeling that he was missing something. The knowing smirk that Jisung always wore when the subject came up didn’t help.

Barely suppressing a scowl, Jeno tried to focus on the game. He liked basketball, although he’d never been allowed to play competitively. Their team was ahead at the end of the first quarter, and Jeno halfheartedly cheered along, trying not to watch Chenle clap his teammates on the back. He seemed like the kind of person who could fit in anywhere, make friends with anyone he came in contact with. Amidst so many flashy Traits, Jeno thought that was a pretty incredible power.

As the second quarter started, Jisung hefted his camera with a sigh. “I’d better go down to the sidelines and get some photos.”

“I can’t believe you brought me to this only to abandon me,” Jeno grumbled, waving him off. Jisung rolled his eyes and disappeared to avoid blocking anyone’s view as he made his way down.

Without Jisung’s smug gaze on him, waiting for any opportunity to tease him, Jeno gave up on stopping his attention from wandering to Chenle. It was natural to be curious about someone who had appeared in his life in such an unusual way, right?

The whistle blew, and the ball passed between players almost too fast for Jeno to follow. 

“Chenle!” called a boy with JUNG spelled across his shoulders in bold white letters, sending an overhead pass across the court.

Chenle didn’t raise his hands to receive.

Jeno mapped the collision course in a split second, the orange asteroid headed for a crash landing. Chenle stared, unseeing, his eyes blank white.

The basketball hit an invisible barrier just before making contact with Chenle’s face, dropping harmlessly to the floor and bouncing away. Chenle’s head snapped back in surprise, his eyes once again dark brown. He watched the ball for a few seconds before snapping his gaze up and scanning the bleachers until he found Jeno. They stared at each other for a moment before Chenle swayed on his feet, the fast reflexes of one of his teammates saving him from crumpling to the sneaker-scuffed court.

Jeno edged his way to the end of the bleachers, the heat and noise reverberating off the gymnasium walls suddenly too much.

***

_“You’re doing it wrong,” Chenle laughed, correcting Jeno’s form from behind. “Feet shoulder-width apart— that’s better.”_

_Jeno rolled his eyes. “Are you my boyfriend or my coach?”_

_“Can’t I be both?”_

_Laughing, Jeno tossed the basketball toward the hoop. His form was terrible, the throw weak, but the ball sailed through the air and neatly into the hoop— nothing but net. “What do you know,” grinned Jeno, “looks like your lessons are helping, coach.”_

_Chenle narrowed his eyes playfully. “Either that or you’re just a dirty cheater.”_

_The ball flew back into Jeno’s hand and he clumsily passed it to Chenle. “Show me how it’s done, then.”_

***

Chenle gasped, blinking as his eyes registered the court, the crowd, his teammates eyeing him with concern. Jeno on the top row of the bleachers.

"You good?" asked Yangyang, a steadying hand still grasping Chenle's arm, keeping him upright.

"Yeah," Chenle assured him, "I'm fine. I just... Coach?" He called to Coach Nakamoto across the court.

The coach took one look at Chenle and nodded, calling Yukhei to take his place on the court. Everyone was well aware that Chenle's Trait often made him a bit dizzy, and they knew that he sometimes needed to take a few minutes to recover. Chenle shot him a quick smile of thanks before slipping off the court and out the gym door.

"Jeno!"

Jeno, nearly to the double doors leading to the parking lot, turned at the sound of his name. As he jogged down the hall, Chenle became starkly aware of how sweaty he was in his jersey, hair sticking to his forehead, but he forced himself not to care. If the future panned out the way it was supposed to, Jeno would end up seeing Chenle in far worse states anyway.

"What?" asked Jeno, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

"Just wanted to say thanks," Chenle said awkwardly, wishing his basketball shorts had pockets to shove his hands into. "I'd have gotten a real good knock to the head if it wasn't for you."

"It's nothing," said Jeno. "Don't worry about it." The door flew open without a touch from Jeno as he turned and left without another word.

The cool evening air ruffled Chenle's sweaty hair as a frown tugged at his mouth. He just couldn't connect this cold, closed off Jeno to the boy in his visions, the boy Chenle was apparently destined to love. Maybe he was seeing glimpses of an alternate universe or something. Maybe the Jeno Lee and Chenle Zhong of that universe met in a perfectly ordinary way, hit it off immediately, and lived happily ever after.

He couldn't help but envy that Chenle.

***

Jeno’s phone pinged with an incoming text from Jisung: _dude where did u go?? what happened?_

Hunched against the chilly autumn breeze, Jeno hastily typed back, _sorry i totally forgot about this essay due tomorrow._ Which was technically true, although he hadn’t forgotten so much as willfully ignored the deadline.

 _okaaaayyyyy,_ Jisung typed back, and Jeno could practically see the unconvinced expression on his face. He always saw through Jeno as easily as others saw through Jisung when he used his Trait.

With a sigh, Jeno tucked his phone back into his pocket. He couldn’t even explain his odd behavior to himself, let alone Jisung. He always did his best to use his Trait to help people whenever he could, so saving Chenle from death via basketball would have been his first instinct anyway. What he couldn't explain was the strange prickling feeling under his skin whenever Chenle looked at him, the feeling that he’d forgotten something important. He had to get away, clear his head.

***

Chenle grumbled in frustration, balancing on the toes of his beat-up sneakers in an attempt to reach a book on the top shelf. He wasn't particularly short, but apparently the school library was constructed with giants in mind— or at least students with actually useful traits.

As that thought crossed his mind, the book his fingers were grasping for shifted, plucking itself from the shelf and settled into Chenle's outstretched hand.

"It's you again."

Nearly dropping the book, Chenle whirled to face Jeno Lee, who examined him with an unreadable expression. "Oh! Um, yeah. Thanks," he said weakly, holding up the book. 

Libraries were supposed to be quiet, but the silence that settled between them was borderline unbearable.

“Are you following me?” Jeno asked suddenly, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“What? No!” A bubble of indignation bloomed in Chenle’s chest, and he crossed his arms defensively over it, the book resting against his shoulder. 

“Then why do you just happen to be there every time I turn around?” Jeno mirrored his stance, crossing his arms— which were very _nice_ arms, Chenle’s brain supplied unhelpfully.

“Look,” Chenle snapped, “you’re stuck with me and it’s not my fault.”

Jeno tilted his head in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Chenle rolled his eyes. “I told you, I’m—” 

The words _your future husband_ froze on Chenle’s tongue as he realized: Jeno didn’t know his Trait. He had no idea that the claim Chenle made when they first met wasn’t a joke or a pick-up line, but the literal, unalterable truth.

“I- I mean,” Chenle spluttered, trying to collect his thoughts, “we go to the same school, of course you see me around. It’s not my fault you never noticed before.”

Jeno raised a distrustful eyebrow but didn’t protest.

Chenle sighed, running a hand through his hair. For once, knowing the future seemed like a burden rather than a blessing. Knowing that he and Jeno would end up together should have made things easier, but it didn’t. He wanted a choice in the matter; he wanted to decide whether he liked Jeno, and he wanted Jeno to form an opinion of him without the cloud of their Inevitability hanging over them. So instead of explaining to Jeno about his visions, he offered him an awkward smile.

“Can we forget about the other day?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Hi,” Chenle tucked the book against his side and stuck out a hand. “I’m Chenle Zhong.”

For a heartbeat, Jeno just stared at him. Then the corner of his mouth ticked up and he shook Chenle’s offered hand. “Jeno Lee. It's nice to meet you.”

Chenle grinned.

***

“Oh, not you again. Are you sure _you_ aren’t the one following _me?_ ”

Jeno turned his attention from his textbook to see Chenle raising a quizzical eyebrow at him, a small notepad in hand, a nametag pinned to his chest, and a red apron tied haphazardly at his waist. “No way. Since when do you work here?” Jeno visited this cafe at least once a week, so it must have been a recent development.

“Since a few days ago,” Chenle shrugged. “Can I take your order?”

After reciting his usual order(hot chocolate with caramel syrup), Jeno tried to turn his attention back to the chapter he was supposed to be studying for his Elemental Manipulation Theory class, but his gaze kept wandering to the counter, behind which Chenle was chatting with a coworker while he deftly mixed the drink. He had never been anything but awkward when Jeno talked to him, so it was strange to see him so comfortable, smiling easily and laughing as though uncaring of who might hear.

It was only because he was inadvertently paying such close attention that Jeno noticed the moment that Chenle stumbled a few steps away from Jeno’s table, eyes flickering like faulty lightbulbs. Instinctively, Jeno reached out with his thoughts to stabilize the steaming mug of hot chocolate before it could fall from Chenle’s slack grip.

“Hey, are you—”

“I’m fine,” gasped Chenle, blinking the white haze from his eyes, reaching to steady himself against the table. He frowned at his empty hands before catching sight of the hovering mug. “Nice catch.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Jeno, pushing back his chair to stand. “Do you need to sit down?” He reached out tentatively, but let his arm fall awkwardly to his side as Chenle lowered himself into the seat on the other side of the table.

“Yeah, maybe just for a minute. Sicheng?” he called back toward the counter.

“That’s fine,” replied the manager immediately. “Don’t worry about it, take as long as you need.”

“So this kind of thing happens often?” Jeno asked.

“Yeah, sort of,” Chenle replied with a tone that clearly said _I don’t want to talk about it._ Jeno sat back, trying to curb his curiosity. Plenty of people preferred not to talk about their Traits, and maybe Chenle was embarrassed that his made him fall over. Or maybe he was one of those who kept their powers under wraps in case they became a superhero one day. Either way, it was none of Jeno’s business. “What are you working on?” said Chenle, deftly changing the subject.

“Fire manipulation,” Jeno sighed, casting a tired look at his abandoned textbook. “Learning the theory behind it is cool, but a lot less entertaining than watching Yangyang go up in flames.”

“You’re friends with Yangyang?” Chenle asked eagerly, leaning forward on his elbows. Jeno wasn't altogether surprised; Yangyang was one of those people that everyone seemed to know. “One time when we were kids, he almost boiled me alive in the swimming pool in his back yard.”

Jeno grinned. Near-death experiences were common when children first began to develop their Traits, and when they weren’t fatal they became pretty good stories. “Really? How’d you get out of that one?”

Chenle’s expression froze for the barest moment, almost imperceptibly, before he answered simply, “I got out of the pool just in time.”

“Lucky,” said Jeno, guessing there was more to the story but unwilling to push. “Mark froze my hand solid when we were eleven.”

“No way!”

“Yeah! He was trying to turn my juice into a popsicle, but I was still holding the cup. The healers at the clinic were able to fix it but the tips of my fingers were numb for days.”

Chenle laughed, the sound so infectious that Jeno couldn’t help joining in.

***

As he hung up his apron and reached for his bag, Chenle took a deep breath. Jeno hadn’t left until almost closing time, and all through his shift part of Chenle’s attention constantly wandered back to his table.

Talking with Jeno was almost too easy now. Their personalities seemed to click together like two well-oiled gears in a machine, but Chenle’s nerves clattered anxiously. He’d come dangerously close to revealing his Trait, thoughtlessly bringing up the day it had saved his life.

Most of the time, Chenle’s visions showed him glimpses of Inevitabilities that would happen weeks, months, years in the future. However, when Chenle was nine and Yangyang was ten, their Traits barely beginning to manifest, Chenle saw Yangyang bursting into flames mere seconds before it happened. Disoriented, he’d blinked the fog from his eyes and splashed toward the edge of the pool as fast as his wobbly limbs would carry him. Chlorine scented steam billowed into the summer sky as the swimming pool boiled.

Unfortunately, these days Chenle’s Trait mostly showed him glimpses of a future that seemed entirely out of reach.

***

_“Happy anniversary,” Jeno murmured into his hair, gently clinking their wine glasses together. Chenle curled himself closer on the sofa, relishing the familiar warmth of the body beside him, perfectly content. It was the kind of ease that bloomed with time, a familiarity that only comes from years of slowly smoothing each other’s edges until they fit together perfectly._

_Chenle pulled back slightly, tilting his head just enough to trace his gaze over the features he’d memorized a hundred times. In his mid-thirties, Jeno looked like maturity in its most attractive form: dependable, stable, and confident. The smile lines beginning to etch themselves around his eyes chronicled years of joy, thousands of happy memories. It delighted Chenle to think of how many of those memories they shared, and how many they had left to share. “Happy anniversary, love.”_

***

“Hey.” Jeno looked up from his sandwich to see Chenle with a lunch tray in his hands, flanked by two of his friends, looking mildly uncomfortable. “Can we sit here?”

“Sure,” said Donghyuck immediately, scooting closer to Mark to make room. Mark raised an accusatory eyebrow at Jeno, who pointedly avoided the look. It’s not that he was keeping his friendship with Chenle a secret; he just conveniently forgot to mention it. 

Shooting a glare at the taller of his friends—Jaemin, Jeno remembered—Chenle took the seat next to Jeno, which felt weirder than it should have. Being friends with Chenle was surprisingly easy. He was odd, but no more so than any of the people Jeno regularly hung out with. In fact, compared to Donghyuck walking through walls and tiny snowstorms following Mark through the school halls when he was in a bad mood, Chenle’s episodes were pretty tame. What unnerved Jeno more was the way Chenle looked at him when the white glow faded from his eyes—as though looking for something in Jeno’s face that he couldn’t quite see. Regardless, to Jeno, their blossoming friendship belonged in the cozy cafe, Chenle coming over to chat whenever business slowed down. Seeing him sitting at the same lunch table felt like a collision of two separate worlds.

Unlike Jeno, Chenle had apparently been forthcoming to his friends, because Jaemin said, “We thought we’d come say hi. We’ve heard a lot about you, Jeno.”

Chenle stabbed his fork at a grape on his tray with a grimace.

“Jisung, please turn visible,” added Chenle’s other friend, who Jeno recognized as the very Renjun Huang who had convinced Jisung to join newspaper club. “I know you’re here, I saw you when we came over.

Jisung reluctantly reappeared in the seat on Jeno’s other side, cheeks an almost worrying shade of red.

Chenle glanced at Jeno, eyebrows raised, and Jeno bit back a laugh.

“So,” said Mark, trying to clear the awkwardness, “Jaemin, Renjun, and Chenle, right?”

“Yep,” confirmed Chenle with a bright smile, his embarrassment forgotten. “Is it true that you can freeze people’s hands solid?”

Mark spluttered, and Donghyuck cackled. “I like this kid, can we keep him?”

“Please do,” said Jaemin. “We don’t want him.”

“Hey!” protested Chenle.

“Hey!” Jaemin echoed, his voice a perfect mimicry of Chenle’s. Mark joined Donghyuck in cracking up, their combined laughter too infectious to resist. Even Chenle smiled, and Jeno thought maybe this wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

***

As the temperatures dipped, fall overtaking the last dregs of summer, Jeno spent more and more time in the cafe during Chenle’s shifts. Not that Chenle minded, of course; he just didn’t understand why. The colder temperatures and approaching exam season brought more customers, seeking warmth or caffeine, so Chenle was usually too busy for much conversation. Still, it was nice to glance over in the middle of a shift and share a fleeting smile.

“See you tomorrow,” said Sicheng, busy cleaning out the coffee maker, as Chenle tugged on his jacket. Thankfully, his shift ended when the cafe closed, allowing him to make his escape before most of the chores.

The thick clouds overhead threatened rain, but for now, the dead leaves skittering along the pavement remained dry. The yellow streetlights lent artificial warmth to the chilly night as Chenle tucked his hands in his pocket, hurrying toward the bus stop.

The bench beneath the awning was already occupied, and an involuntary smile tugged the corners of Chenle’s lips.

“Hey, idiot,” he said, “where’s your jacket?”

Jeno looked up in surprise, the leaves he’d been levitating drifting away in the breeze, then shrugged sheepishly. “It wasn’t cold earlier.”

“Ever hear of thinking ahead?” Chenle teased, sitting on the bench and shivering at the cold from the metal seeping through his jeans. 

“I planned on being home by now,” retorted Jeno with a slight pout, “but I missed the earlier bus.”

Chenle huffed a laugh, his breath puffing like smoke. At least he was wearing a sweater and fleece-lined denim jacket, but Jeno must have been freezing in his t-shirt. “Here,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it across Jeno’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t want you getting hypothermia.”

“But—”

“It’s fine,” Chenle insisted. “Next time you miss your bus, just come sit in the cafe. We won’t kick you out for loitering.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Jeno agreed, finally giving in and tugging the jacket closer around his shoulders with a shiver. He looked back at the concrete at their feet, at the orange and brown leaves. One by one, the leaves lost contact with the ground and drifted in a lazy spiral.

“That’s so cool,” Chenle breathed. He’d always wished for a Trait like this, one that he could control rather than the other way around. “Can you move anything? Could you, like, make me fly?”

“Not a chance,” Jeno laughed. “I might be able to make you jump a bit higher than usual, but that’s about it.”

“Oh,” Chenle huffed, a bit disappointed. “So it’s harder to move heavier things?”

“For me it is,” said Jeno. “Maybe other telekinetics could make people fly, but my power doesn’t work like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jeno hummed thoughtfully, “there are different types of telekinesis. Some people move things by air manipulation or magnetism. My power is to manipulate gravity—to change how objects act in relation to each other. If I want an object to move, my Trait changes the direction that gravity pulls on it. Rather than making things fly, I just make things fall in a different direction or at a different speed. That’s why heavier objects are more difficult, and I can’t move anything heavier than me, since gravity is based on mass.” He let the leaves flutter to the ground. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you with Trait theory.”

“No, it’s really cool,” Chenle assured, wishing that Jeno would continue. He wasn’t particularly interested in the science behind Traits, but the gleam in Jeno’s eyes when he talked about things that truly interested him was captivating. Chenle could have listened to him for hours. “It’s cool that you actually try to understand your Trait; I barely know how mine works.”

Jeno raised his eyebrows—a silent invitation to broach the subject that they’d skirted around since they met. Flushing, Chenle looked away. “I—um,” he started, but before he could figure out what he wanted to say, the edges of his vision began to blur.

 _Not now,_ he thought desperately, but the Inevitability already had him in its grasp.

***

_“See, isn’t this color so much better?” Jeno beamed, a smear of pale blue paint streaking his cheek._

_“It looked fine before,” Chenle said, “but if it makes you happy, I’m glad we painted it.”_

_Jeno hummed happily, focusing his attention on the paint roller making its way across the ceiling. “We should get matching sheets.”_

_“I never knew you had such a passion for interior design,” Chenle laughed._

_As the last spot of cream on the ceiling disappeared beneath eggshell blue, Jeno looked Chenle up and down. “And I never knew you had the cleanliness skills of a preschooler.”_

_Chenle glanced down at his paint-splattered clothes and shrugged. “I may be a mess, but you love me anyway.”_

_“Fortunately for you,” Jeno laughed. “Come on, let’s go get the paint out of your hair before it dries.”_

***

Jeno watched Chenle’s lashes flutter over pure white eyes, his cheek resting on Jeno’s shoulder but not seeming to register the contact. For the thousandth time, he wondered what it meant.

With a gasp, Chenle straightened, the white film fading from his eyes. “Oh my god, what the—” he stared around, as if trying to remember where he was, then blinked at Jeno for a few bewildered seconds. “How long was I out?”

“A minute?” Jeno shrugged. “Maybe less.”

A pair of headlights rounded the corner and Chenle jumped to his feet, fumbling for his transit card. Although they found seats together on the nearly-empty bus, the conversation didn’t rekindle. Three stops later, Chenle offered a tight smile and a “See you at school,” before getting off.

It wasn’t until Jeno reached his own stop a few minutes later that he realized he still had Chenle’s jacket tucked securely around him, the faint smell of coffee clinging to the fabric.

***

Gradually, Jeno got used to Chenle's presence in his life. He and his friends fit surprisingly well with Jeno's tight-knit group, eating lunch with them a few times a week. Although Jaemin and Renjun were friendly, Jeno felt most comfortable seated next to Chenle, shaking with silent laughter as Jisung spluttered his way through a conversation with Renjun. Mark and Donghyuck occasionally sent him suggestive glances, but Jeno was perfectly content to ignore them.

“You’ve got it bad, dude,” Mark murmured to him on a Wednesday, his words masked by the bell signaling the end of the lunch period. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Jeno waving to the others as he and Mark left the cafeteria, heading for their shared fourth period.

“Don’t play dumb, Jen, it’s not a good look on you,” Mark complained. “Especially after I just sat through yet _another_ half-hour of you making eyes at Chenle.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Jeno maintained, picking up his pace.

“You can’t run away from me, we’re going to the same class,” Mark reminded him, easily keeping up. “Anyways, the ogling goes both ways, man! Chenle’s definitely into you. Ask him out.”

“I can’t ask him out,” Jeno snapped as they reached the classroom, heading for his desk and dropping his backpack atop it. “We barely know each other.”

“Oh come _on,”_ Mark groaned, dropping into the next seat and punching Jeno on the shoulder, sending a shiver of goosebumps running down his arm. “It’s been, what, a month since you met? A month and a half?”

“Exactly. Not long at all.”

Mark leaned his head back in exasperation. “You don’t need to be ready for marriage to ask someone on a date!”

“Who’s getting married?” Jeno glanced up to see Yangyang turned around in his chair, teeth on display in a teasing grin. “Can I be the flower boy?”

“In your dreams, Liu,” Jeno laughed. “Maybe you can flambe the wedding cake.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Yangyang, dipping his head in mock humility. “Hey, are you guys busy this weekend?”

“I don’t think so,” answered Mark, glancing at Jeno, who shrugged. “Why?”

Yangyang’s mischievous grin returned full-force. “My parents are going out of town, so I thought I’d invite some people over.”

“And by ‘some people,’ you mean half the school,” Jeno clarified.

“Nah, dude, it’ll be small,” Yangyang promised. “Twenty people, twenty-five tops. No alcohol, nothing crazy. I know parties aren’t really your scene, Jen, but you should come. It’s been ages since we hung out.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jeno relented, touched by the consideration. He and Yangyang had been closer in middle school, but since starting high school they’d each gravitated toward new friend groups, although they still shared friendly conversations at school. It was nice to be invited; maybe one party, especially a small one, couldn’t hurt.

***

Of all the times Chenle had been dragged to Yangyang’s place for a party, this time was the least crowded. The house was big enough to easily fit several dozen high schoolers, but he seemed to have been sparing with the invitations this time around. Most of the people milling around the entryway and lounge seemed familiar—a few juniors like Chenle himself, several seniors, and even a few people Chenle recognized from the previous year’s graduating class. As promised, he caught sight of no alcohol.

“Do you think Renjun’s here yet?” asked Jaemin, scanning the room. “Oh, there he is, talking to Chaewon by the snack table.” They made their way over, dodging the enthusiastic game of Twister already in full swing in the center of the lounge. Chaewon greeted them cheerily before being dragged away by Yerim for a round of Mario Kart.

“Have you seen Yangyang?” asked Chenle.

“What, no hello?” Renjun deadpanned. “Last I saw he and Jeno were upstairs playing DDR.”

“Jeno’s here?” Chenle asked before he could stop himself.

“Interesting,” said Jaemin carelessly, snatching a Coke from the cooler. “Renjun, I was going to go find Heejin and Hyunjin, you coming?”

“Sure,” Renjun agreed, clapping Chenle on the shoulder with a smirk. “See you later, Lele.”

Just like that, Chenle was abandoned. “I need to find better friends,” he muttered, grabbing a few Twizzlers from a bowl and heading for the stairs.

The second floor was even less crowded, with a small cluster of people gathered around the television and the cheap DDR mat set up on the floor in Yangyang’s room, cheering and heckling as Shotaro frantically stepped and hopped to some too-fast techno song. Chenle spotted Jeno leaning against the bed, where Yangyang sprawled with a bowl of popcorn.

As the song ended and Shotaro stepped off the mat to wild applause, Chenle slipped into the group. Ryujin waved to him as she picked a song, drawing Jeno’s attention.

“Chenle!” he called, eyes scrunching up in a bright smile, and Chenle felt something inside of him melt.

“Hi,” Chenle grinned back, snatching the popcorn from Yangyang and setting himself on the floor.

“Hey!” Yangyang protested.

Chenle waved him off. “Be a good host, go pop some more.”

“Way ahead of you, dude.” Yangyang produced a microwavable popcorn bag from his pocket and held it out in his palm. As Jeno craned his head around to watch, Yangyang’s palm glowed red, a shimmer of heat rising from the skin, and the corn kernels in the bag began to pop, one by one.

“That’s a pretty good trick,” Chenle admitted, and Yangyang winked with one of his now fiery-orange eyes.

“Can we disqualify Ryujin?” someone shouted. “Super-speed is an unfair advantage.”

“Shut up, Yeji,” Ryujin yelled back, her feet hitting every step in a blur.

“Yangyang!” Jeno yelped, pushing away from the bed.

“Oh, fu—” in his distraction, Yangyang’s hand had burst into flame, incinerating the popcorn. He quickly patted the flames away, sending up a plume of smoke.

“Nice one,” snickered Yeji, pushing open the window and twirling her hand. A gust of air rushed through the room, sweeping the smoke outside.

Chenle laughed along, ignoring the slight pang of jealousy he felt at watching his friends so easily use and misuse their Traits. Even Yangyang, who often set fire to his homework when he wasn’t paying attention, had more control over his Trait than Chenle did. 

“Why am I not surprised by this turn of events,” sighed Jeno, shaking his head like a wet dog to dislodge the bits of charred popcorn in his hair.

“Because you’ve met Yangyang,” Chenle grinned, leaning over to brush a stray kernel from Jeno’s shoulder. His attention caught on Jeno’s clothing, and he raised an eyebrow. “Is that my jacket?”

“Huh?” Jeno glanced down, confused, then flushed. “Oh, yeah! I’ve been meaning to give it back.” He began to shrug out of the sleeves, but Chenle stopped him, tugging the collar back into place.

“Keep it,” he insisted, enjoying the way Jeno’s ears reddened. “It looks good on you.”

Jeno’s eyes widened for a moment, then crinkled with a flustered smile.

“Gross,” declared Yangyang, making Chenle jump; he’d forgotten there was anyone else in the room. The others paid them no mind, too focused on the new round of DDR, but Yangyang had retrieved his bowl of unburnt popcorn and was glancing between Chenle and Jeno with avid interest.

“I’m going back downstairs,” said Chenle, standing and flicking Yangyang on the forehead before offering Jeno his hand. “You coming?”

Jeno allowed Chenle to pull him to his feet, ears still a furious red. “Sure. I should go find Mark, anyway.”

“Have fun,” Yangyang called after them.

***

After considerable searching, Jeno found Mark on the back patio along with Donghyuck.

“What are you doing out here?” Jeno demanded, pulling Chenle’s jacket tighter around him and ignoring the way his stomach fluttered. “It’s freezing.”

“Hyuck’s hiding from Sungchan,” Mark explained, shooting Donghyuck an unimpressed glare.

“I thought you guys agreed to stay friends,” said Jeno, forcing himself in between them on the bench in an effort to absorb some of their warmth. Bad idea, considering Mark was basically a walking freezer.

“We did,” groaned Donghyuck into his hands, “but it’s so awkward.”

“I’m sorry, dude,” Jeno patted Donghyuck comfortingly on the back. “Is Jisung here?”

“Last I saw, Renjun was beating his ass at Mario Kart,” Mark snorted. “I think poor Sungie got so flustered he forgot the controls. Where have you been?”

“Upstairs, with Yangyang and, um, Chenle.”

Donghyuck lifted his head, his boy problems forgotten at the mention of Jeno’s. “Oh? Do tell.”

Jeno shrugged stiffly, avoiding eye contact. “Nothing to tell.”

“Come on, Jen,” Donghyuck whined, poking at Jeno’s still-flushed earlobe. “I’ve known you long enough to know something’s up.”

Batting Donghyuck’s hand away, Jeno huffed. “I think… I think he likes me.”

“Great deduction, detective,” Mark deadpanned. “Was that not obvious when he proposed the first day you met?”

“That’s not what happened,” Jeno snapped. “That was just— I don’t know, he just says weird stuff sometimes. I think it has something to do with his Trait, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Either way,” Donghyuck cut it, “it’s obvious that Chenle likes you. The question is, how do you feel about him?”

“Confused,” Jeno mumbled, leaning his elbows on his knees and stringing his fingers through his hair. “I mean, he’s great, and I like spending time with him—”

“And he’s cute, don’t forget that,” added Donghyuck, smiling innocently when Jeno shot him a glare. “Sorry, please continue.”

“I guess I just don’t get why he’d be interested in me,” Jeno finished, eyes trained on his sneakers.

“Bitch—” Donghyuck started, but Mark cut him off.

“Jeno, you’re sexy as hell,” he said forcefully. “Not to mention kind, loyal, interesting, funny—”

“And you give good hugs!” said Donghyuck, wrapping his arms around Jeno and resting his cheek on his shoulder. “What’s not to like?”

“Go for it, dude,” Mark encouraged, joining the hug and sending an icy shiver down Jeno’s spine. 

“Get your icicle fingers off my neck, Mark,” Donghyuck complained, squirming.

“Thanks, guys,” Jeno laughed, getting a mouthful of Donghyuck’s hair. 

*** 

“So?” said Jaemin, sprawled on Renjun’s couch and staring intently at Chenle. 

“So what?” Chenle yawned, tapping his pencil against a nearly-finished worksheet.

“ _So what?_ ” parroted Jaemin. “So, what’s up with you and Jeno?”

Chenle bit his lip. In the days since the party, something seemed to have shifted between him and Jeno, but Chenle couldn’t quite place what had changed. Maybe he was imagining it. “None of your—”

“Chenle likes him,” interrupted Renjun. “They’re friends now, but Chenle thinks about kissing him all the time.”

“Get out of my head,” snapped Chenle.

Renjun shrugged. “You were going to tell us anyway, so I thought I’d just speed up the conversation a bit.”

Chenle scowled, but Renjun was right, as always. He was no good at keeping secrets from his friends, telepathy Trait aside. From Jeno, on the other hand…

“I still haven’t told him about my Trait,” Chenle confessed, chewing on his lip.

“What?” Jaemin demanded. “Why not?” 

Renjun nodded in understanding, no doubt sifting through Chenle’s jumbled thoughts. “I get why you don’t want to. You want to build a relationship naturally, without the pressure of the future. But you know you have to tell him eventually, and the longer you wait, the harder it will be.”

“I know,” Chenle sighed. “I’ll tell him. Soon.” He set down his pencil and turned to fully face Renjun. “But enough about me, what about you and Jisung?”

Renjun grinned. “He’s stopped disappearing every time I try to talk to him, so that’s progress.”

As Jaemin pestered Renjun for details, Chenle’s attention turned to his phone. He’d put it on silent while he studied, but the light blinking in the corner caught his eye.

_From: Jeno_

_hey are you busy rn?_

Chenle glanced half-heartedly from his unfinished worksheet to his bickering friends.

_To: Jeno_

_not really_

_why?_

_From: Jeno_

_do you wanna come over?_

_i feel like watching a movie but all my friends are busy_

Chenle bit his lip, checking to make sure Jaemin and Renjun still weren’t paying attention.

_To: Jeno_

_so i dont count as a friend?_

_From: Jeno_

_thats not what i meant and you know it_

_are you coming over or not?_

“I’m leaving,” Chenle announced, stuffing his homework into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Bye!” He was out the door before his friends could start interrogating him.

***

Jeno opened his front door to find Chenle panting on the doormat, one hand gripping the handlebar of a beat-up bicycle.

“Stop laughing at me,” Chenle complained. “Where can I put this?”

“Just leave it on the lawn,” Jeno shrugged, still snickering. “It probably won’t get stolen.”

“How comforting,” he grumbled, but let his bike tip over onto the grass with no further argument.

Jeno’s mom appeared in the entryway as Chenle toed off his sneakers on the welcome mat. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, silently begging for an introduction. 

“Mom, this is Chenle,” Jeno said reluctantly. His parents were notoriously nosy, and as expected the introduction only made her more interested.

“Nice you meet you,” said Chenle politely.

“You too, dear.” Before she could say more, Jeno grabbed Chenle by the elbow and dragged him toward the stairs. Chenle put up no resistance, giggling as Jeno pushed him into his room closed the door behind them. 

“She seems nice,” he noted, plopping down onto Jeno’s bed and looking around with interest at the bookshelf, desk, and the television which Jeno had claimed when his parents decided to get a new one for the lounge.

“Yeah,” Jeno agreed with a sigh, shoving Chenle to make room on the bed and pulling up his Netflix account. “What do you want to watch?”

In the end, it didn’t matter what movie they picked; Jeno couldn’t have named a single one of the characters, let alone described the plot. Every bit of his attention was focused on Chenle—his laughter when something funny happened on screen, the way the shifting light played across his features, the warmth radiating from his skin. Gradually and without seeming to notice, he shifted closer, and Jeno was hyper-aware of every point of contact between them. By the time the credits rolled, he had tucked himself against Jeno’s side, leaving Jeno no choice but to drape his arm over Chenle’s shoulders. 

“That was fun,” Chenle yawned, lashes fluttering sleepily against his cheek.

“Yeah,” Jeno agreed, with no idea whether it was true.

 _The question is,_ Donghyuck had said, _how do you feel about him?_

It was harder to lie to himself with Chenle so close. In fact, it was impossible.

“Chenle—”

“Jeno, I—”

They stared at each other for a moment before dissolving into awkward giggles. “What is it?” Chenle asked, his hands twisting together in his lap as he straightened, opening up a small gap between them that felt like a chasm.

“I—um.” The remote control levitated from the foot of the bed and Jeno snatched it from the air, turning off the television just to have something to do with his hands. “I have to tell you something.”

“Me too.” Chenle tilted his head to the side, front teeth digging into his lower lip. “You go first.”

“Okay.” He ducked his head, taking a deep breath. His friends were right, as much as he hated to admit it. He could do this. “Chenle, I really like you.”

The silence hovered, crystalized until Jeno dared to look up. Chenle’s eyes were dazed, his lips slightly parted as he stared at Jeno like he couldn’t quite believe his own senses. 

“How… how do you mean that?” he murmured, drawing Jeno’s gaze to his lips.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Chenle’s lips quirked slightly, and Jeno was not in the mood to be teased. 

The remote control thudded to the floor as he leaned forward, close enough that Jeno could have counted the dark lashes framing Chenle’s wide eyes. All traces of sleepiness were gone from his expression, replaced with a breathless kind of wonder. Hesitantly, as though afraid Jeno might vanish at his touch, Chenle’s hand ghosted along Jeno’s jaw, cupping his cheek. He froze then, waiting for Jeno to make the next move.

Jeno had only kissed one person before—Yangyang in 8th grade when they’d both had braces. Yangyang had been so nervous that his nose burst into flame, singeing off one of Jeno’s eyebrows, and they’d decided they were better off as friends. Inexperience made Jeno’s pulse beat erratically at his ribcage now, but Chenle tilted his face up—the smallest of movements, but a clear invitation.

The first press of his lips against Chenle’s was tentative, light as a butterfly’s wing before he pulled away, terrified and exhilarated. A lazy grin spread across Chenle’s face, dimpling his flushed cheeks.

“Oh,” he drawled, “that’s what you meant.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“I like you too,” Chenle said as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe, “so you should kiss me again.”

***

As soon as Donghyuck caught sight of Jeno the following morning, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are you looking so happy about,” he demanded loud enough that Mark and Jisung stopped mid-conversation and leveled inquiring stares at Jeno. 

Fumbling his way through his locker combination, Jeno pointedly avoided meeting their eyes. “Good morning to you too.”

“Something happened,” Mark speculated. “You’re never so friendly this early in the morning.”

“How much do you want to bet it has something to do with Chenle?” Jisung suggested, and Jeno couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at his knowing smirk. A smile rose unbidden to his lips, and Donghyuck nearly shrieked.

“What is it?” he pestered, grabbing at Jeno’s arm.

Jeno sighed, slamming his locker shut. “We talked.”

“Is that all?” Mark asked skeptically.

“And kissed.”

The pandemonium this revelation caused was a bit over the top, in Jeno’s opinion. He couldn’t remember anyone making such a fuss when Donghyuck had started dating Sungchan.

Dating? Were he and Chenle dating now? They hadn’t really talked about it, but Jeno decided there would be time for that later.

“So he finally told you,” Jisung whooped.

“Uh, yeah?” Jeno replied, unsure what Jisung meant.

“Did he give you the details?” Jisung persisted. “Which of us gets to be your best man?”

“It’s a bit early to be thinking about that,” Jeno laughed, shoving Mark’s cold hands from his shoulders.

Jisung paused, a flash of confusion flickering across his face. “But since you know it’ll happen eventually—”

“Jisung, what are you talking about?”

Jisung froze, eyes widening momentarily before he disappeared from view—too late. Jeno already had a firm grasp on his bicep and was hauling him back, demanding an explanation. Defeated, Jisung reappeared. Mark and Donghyuck stood back, seemingly unsure of this turn of the conversation.

“He– he hasn’t told you?” Jisung mumbled.

“Told me what?” Jeno was growing frustrated with the feeling of being constantly out of the loop. “For once in your life, stop being so cryptic.”

Jisung took a deep breath, seeming to brace himself for the reaction to his next words. “He can see the future.”

***

The sound of the final bell took a moment to register in Chenle’s ears, snapping him out of his reverie—not a vision, but a simple daydream. The school day had dragged on for an eternity, so long that Chenle had begun to suspect some sort of time manipulation, and he had yet to catch a glimpse of Jeno. He’d been missing at lunch, along with Jisung, and neither Mark nor Donghyuck had offered any information on their whereabouts. His texts had gone unanswered, and Chenle’s nerves were beginning to get the better of him.

Everything had seemed fine when he’d left Jeno’s house last night, stealing one last kiss on the doorstep. What could have happened since then? Maybe Jeno was just sick—but then why had his friends refused to talk about it? Maybe Jeno was secretly a superhero working with a covert government agency and he’d been called on an urgent mission, his friends having been sworn to secrecy—

Chenle cut off that line of thought immediately before his imagination could run away with him. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation, which Jeno would explain clearly and calmly when next they met.

“Chenle.”

“Jeno?” Almost to the school gates, Chenle turned at the familiar voice with a smile pulling at his lips, but it froze when he caught sight of Jeno’s stony expression. “What’s the matter?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

An icy chill traipsed its way down Chenle’s spine. “What?”

“Your Trait. You can see the future.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I—yeah, but—”

“So when we first met,” Jeno barreled on, his hands tucked into his pockets in an unconvincing mockery of nonchalance, “and you said you were my- my future husband…” He trailed off, his bluster draining away until only confused helplessness was left.

“Yes,” Chenle confirmed quietly. “I saw it.”

The courtyard was deserted by now, all students either on their way home or busy with extracurriculars, and the silence was almost eerie.

At last, Jeno spoke, his voice brittle. “So that’s why.” He turned away.

“I-what? Jeno, wait—” a force tugged at Chenle as if he was being dragged backward—no, as if he was falling horizontally. He stumbled, Jeno’s Trait strong enough to knock him off balance. Before he could regain his footing, the edges of his vision began to dim.

***

_“Five more minutes,” Jeno mumbled, words muffled against the back of Chenle’s neck._

_“We have to get up,” Chenle laughed, trying to wriggle out of Jeno’s hold, but Jeno wrapped his arms tighter around his waist and tangled their legs together._

_“Don’t wanna.”_

_“Fine,” Chenle sighed, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Five more minutes.” He allowed himself to be bundled in the warmth of blankets and limbs._

***

When Chenle awoke, he was crumpled on the cold concrete of the courtyard. Jeno was nowhere in view.

***

“Open up!” 

Jeno sighed, the pounding at his bedroom door not helping the headache building behind his eyes. Not able to generate the amount of focus it would take to perform such an intricate movement with his Trait, Jeno dragged himself from his bed and unlatched the door.

Mark, Donghyuck, and Jisung tumbled into the room in a heap.

“You’re moping,” Mark explained, disentangling himself from the mess and holding up a paper bag, “so we brought pastries.”

For a moment Jeno seriously considered kicking all three of them back out, but instead, he closed the door behind them and collapsed back onto the bed. “Did you get a chocolate croissant?”

“Of course we did,” said Mark, placing the pastry in Jeno’s outstretched hand. 

“Now we’re all gonna eat sweets and talk about our feelings,” Donghyuck declared, taking a cinnamon roll from the bag and wedging himself onto the bed along with the others. 

“What happened with Chenle?” Jisung asked tentatively, guilt written all over his face. 

Jeno contemplated the croissant so he wouldn’t have to look any of his friends in the eye. “I talked to him, and yeah. He had a vision of us getting married or whatever.”

“I’ve known this whole time,” Jisung admitted. “I’m sorry, I would have told you.”

“No,” Jeno said, “ _he_ should have told me.”

“Not to sound insensitive, but I don’t really understand why you’re upset,” Mark frowned. “You like him, right? Why is it a bad thing to find out you have a future together?”

Jeno took a bite of his pasty as he considered how to respond. “I guess it just makes everything feel kind of fake,” he said eventually. “I know how I felt, but I’m not sure if it was real for him, or if he just decided to like me because of, you know, the future.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Donghyuck interjected gently, “he seems to have genuine feelings for you.

“Maybe,” Jeno shrugged, “but it’s not like any of us know him all that well. And,” he closed his eyes, figuring that since he’d already begun to spill his guts, he might as well finish, “it’s kind of scary. It’s like all of the sudden, all my choices have been taken away.”

“That’s not really Chenle’s fault, though,” said Mark.

Jeno glared at him. “Whose side are you on?”

Mark raised his hands in appeasement. “I’m not trying to pick a fight, I’m just trying to understand the situation.”

“Me too,” sighed Jeno. “I think you guys should leave. I just—I have to work this out.”

“Okay.” Donghyuck was the first to stand, giving Jeno a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “Let us know if you need anything.”

As soon as Jeno was left alone with his thoughts, he regretted it. The whirlwind of confusion and anger had left his emotions in tatters. He wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel. The only constant was the vague ache in his chest because, despite everything, he already missed Chenle.

***

Chenle didn’t dream—at least, not in the way other people did. His Trait activated at random times while he was awake, but at night the future had full reign over his brain. Normally it wasn’t a problem. Most of the time he saw scenes from lives that had nothing to do with him, strangers going about their lives. Sometimes he knew that Jaemin was about to bomb his Chemistry test, or that Renjun would catch a cold in a few weeks.

Waking up each morning with a new detail about Jeno—his favorite foods, the cat he would adopt when he was twenty-three, the way he would look in his graduation cap and gown—was significantly harder for Chenle to deal with.

He caught glimpses of him sometimes, in the halls or at lunch, and Jeno never looked his way. They had no classes together, and Chenle didn’t go out of his way to try and talk to him. After all, at some point Jeno would be stuck with him for the rest of their lives; the least Chenle could do was give him some space.

Renjun knew everything, of course, and Chenle guessed he’d filled Jaemin in, but they both knew Chenle well enough not to press the subject. They made it clear they were there for him if he needed to talk, but Chenle gently refused. He doubted they would have any advice to offer, but on the fifth day, he decided to call someone who might.

“Chenle!” Kun called cheerily as the video call connected, his slightly pixelated smile easing some of the tension in Chenle’s shoulders. “I assume something’s wrong since you’re bothering to call.”

Chenle rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed that Kun had gotten to the heart of the issue so quickly. As an empath, Kun could sense other people’s emotions within a short-range, but ever since he’d gone to university to become a therapist, Chenle had discovered that his brother’s ability to read his mood didn’t entirely depend on his Trait.

“I guess you could say that,” Chenle admitted, “but I don’t want to talk about that, exactly.”

The video shook for a moment as Kun settled himself on a sofa. “So what do you want to talk about?”

“Do you think my visions could ever be wrong?”

Kun frowned, taking the question seriously. “Well, have they ever been wrong before? Have you ever had a vision that didn’t come true?”

Chenle shook his head.

“Even when you’ve tried to change the future, it always turns out exactly as you saw it, right?”

Wincing, Chenle nodded. He’d once spent two weeks trying to keep Jaemin from falling down the stairs at school, only to accidentally knock him down them himself. Jaemin had fractured his wrist, and Chenle swore to himself not to fight against his Trait.

“In that case,” Kun said, “I don’t see any reason not to trust what you see. We don’t know everything about your Trait, but I expect it’ll probably keep working the same way it always has.”

“You’re probably right,” Chenle admitted, slumping back with a sigh.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so worked up about this?” Kun asked, brow creasing in concern. “Did you see something you don’t want to happen?”

“No,” Chenle sighed. “It’s something I think I want to happen, but I’m not sure how it’s possible.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what it is?”

“I’ll tell you some other time,” Chenle promised vaguely. “Once I figure things out.”

“Alright,” Kun replied reluctantly. “Call me if you need to talk.” He flashed a sardonic smile. “I won’t even charge you for a full counseling session.”

***

Trait Management was, to put it lightly, not Chenle’s favorite class. Most of his classmates leaped at the chance to goof off with their Traits for an hour under the guise of practice, but Chenle couldn’t activate his power at will. In desperation, the teacher had provided him with a notebook and instructed him to record his visions. He flipped idly through the pages detailing Inevitabilities in the lives of himself, his friends, strangers—and Jeno. So many entries of happy memories yet to be made. He tried to draw comfort from them, forcing himself to believe that no matter how miserable he felt now, these small fragments of his future were assured. His fingers trailed over the words written what seemed like an eternity ago. The day he met Jeno and knew immediately where that first meeting would lead them. 

It almost made sense. Once he met Jeno, it was Inevitable that he would fall in love.

“Wow.”

Chenle instinctively slammed the notebook shut, turning to glare at the source of the voice—except there didn’t seem to be one. The air shifted and Jisung flickered into view at Chenle’s side in the perfect position to read over his shoulder. Chenle ducked his head in embarrassment, too exhausted to be angry or defensive.

“What do you want,” he mumbled to the desktop.

“I want to apologize.”

Chenle looked up, surprised, but Jisung’s gaze was fixed on the closed notebook.

“For what?”

“For telling Jeno about your Trait. I’m sorry, I just assumed you would have told him by now, but then he was so confused—” His brow furrowed, silently questioning.

“I was going to,” Chenle said, feeling a flush creep up his neck, “I swear, but I—there never seemed to be a good time, and I wanted… I didn’t want Jeno to think he had to like me, just because of what I’d seen.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Jisung replied slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. “But Chenle, you have to know that’s exactly how Jeno’s feeling right now.”

Chenle blinked, confused. “What? But, before he even knew, he said—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jisung cut him off, shaking his head. “I mean, Jeno thinks that _you_ only like _him_ because of what you’ve seen.”

Chenle’s mouth hung open. He thought of his visions, all the Inevitabilities recorded in the notebook beneath his fingertips—vows and wine glasses and lazy mornings. Then, he thought about the Jeno he knew now, who had slowly come out of his shell over cups of hot chocolate in the cafe. Jeno, red-cheeked with Chenle’s jacket draped around his shoulders. Jeno, laughing with his eyes crinkled shut. Jeno, kissing Chenle so gently, as though afraid that he would shatter at one wrong move.

It wasn’t the visions of the future that influenced Chenle’s present—it was the other way around. Timelines were confusing, but Chenle knew with certainty that he would have fallen for Jeno with or without his Trait.

***

“I thought you were allergic to cats.”

Jeno, crouched on the curb with his hand outstretched, nearly tipped over at the unexpected voice. The ginger cat flicked her tail, then turned and stalked into the bushes.

Chenle watched her go with a fleeting half smile, the golden light of the setting sun dancing across his features and highlighting the blue in his hair.

“How do you know I’m allergic to cats?” Jeno asked, not bothering to stand. He wasn’t sure what he might do if he found himself at eye level with Chenle. “I never told you that.”

Silently, helplessly, Chenle stared at him, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. His eyes were brown and glassy, not glowing white, but they made Jeno shiver all the same.

“Oh. Right, of course you know that.” Jeno turned away, getting to his feet and brushing his hands against his pants.

A grip on his wrist held him back, rooting him in place, but Jeno refused to look back. He fixed his eyes on the horizon, where the clouds were bursting with light and color.

“Jeno.” Chenle’s voice was ragged, frayed around the edges like a rope pulled taut and ready to snap. “I want to know everything about you. What I’ve seen, what I know—”

Wrenching his wrist free, Jeno fled.

“I want that life, Jeno Lee,” Chenle yelled after him, tears clinging to his words. “Inevitability or not, that’s what I want.”

***

_Chenle seemed to be floating— that was a relief. He wasn’t experiencing a scene from his own future first hand, merely watching, detached and separate, an Inevitability from someone else’s life. But something about his surroundings put Chenle on edge; he’d been here before. One of his friends’ futures, then?_

_The room was dark, but a flickering light danced under the closed door. As Chenle watched, helpless, wisps of smoke began to curl around the edges, dark fingers creeping their way through the gaps around the doorframe._

_Chenle wanted to close his eyes, but of course, he couldn’t. Technically, his eyes were already closed; this was all in his head. He’d had a few visions of catastrophe before, and they always left him feeling particularly useless. The only future the visions showed him were events he couldn’t change. The crossroads that lead to this fire had already been crossed, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it._

_Something crashed somewhere else in the house, accompanied by the roar of the flames, and the figure on the bed moved. Chenle hadn’t noticed them before, too focused on the fire, but even in the low light, the boy was unmistakable._

_Of course. Chenle had been here, in this house, only last week. Why hadn’t he realized before now?_

_Jeno’s hand stretched toward his bedside table, his glasses instantly flying into his fingers. “What the—”_

No! _Chenle wanted to scream. He wanted to pull Jeno back, but he was tugged along as helplessly as a balloon on a string as Jeno blearily approached the door._

_A wave of heat and smoke crashed into the room as the edges of Chenle’s vision began to go dark. The last thing he saw through the haze of smoke was the alarm clock on Jeno’s bedside table, blinking red._

_2:06 AM._

***

Chenle woke with a gasp, hands clawing at his bedsheets, lungs trying to expel smoke that wasn’t there.

 _The time,_ he thought, searching for his phone in the darkness. The screen lit up, offering a slim ray of hope.

1:48 AM.

In half a minute, Chenle was stuffing his shoes into his sneakers and stumbling out the door, his phone dialing the emergency number. He waited long enough to give the operator Jeno’s address before snatching up his bike, the handlebars cold enough to burn against his palms, and careening off into the night.

***

All Jeno knew was smoke. The sting in his eyes, the burn in his lungs, the ashen taste clinging to his tongue. Remnants of sleep clung to his mind, making his thoughts sluggish, and a blinding pain in his ankle threatened to make him pass out. He forced himself to focus on his situation—what he could make out of it at least.

There was something on his leg, pinning him to the ground. His ankle screamed as he tried in vain to tug it free. He focused his Trait, but the mass was too much—he realized it must be his bookshelf, and he cursed himself for not having the forethought to bolt it to the wall. The shelf barely shifted, and Jeno couldn’t get enough leverage to push it off. Sirens wailed in the distance, or maybe that was just what Jeno wished to hear above the crackle and roar of flames.

“Jeno!” 

In the haze of smoke and pain, Jeno thought he had imagined the voice until it came again, right by his side.

“Jeno, I’m going to get you out of here but you’re going to have to help me. Okay?”

Jeno managed a nod.

“Okay, when I count to three, I need you to use your Trait to help me get this thing off you. One, two, three!”

With all the energy he could muster, Jeno urged the gravitational pull on the bookshelf to lessen, to change direction. A figure, barely visible, shoved at the same time, and Jeno’s leg was free.

“Oh my god,” the face hovering over Jeno was ashen and panicked—and familiar.

“Chenle?”

“Yeah, it’s me, we’ve got to—” Chenle’s voice cut off in a rasping cough, choking on the smoke. He grabbed for Jeno’s arms and dragged him upright. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Jeno’s ankle buckled. “I can’t—”

“Here.” Chenle pulled Jeno’s arm over his shoulders, taking the weight off his ankle.

Afterward, Jeno wouldn’t be able to explain how they made it out of the house. The only thing he could remember was smoke and flame, the pain in his leg and Chenle’s arm gripping his waist, keeping him standing, and then they were outside, collapsing onto the ground and taking greedy breaths of the blessedly cold night air.

Figures popped into existence all around them—firefighters and medics brought by teleporters who immediately disappeared again only to return with another. One woman stood with her arms outstretched, a blast of water shooting from her palms and exploding into steam. Hands pulled him farther from the blaze, checked his limbs for injuries, asked him questions he couldn’t comprehend. 

Chenle’s arm was still around him, but his muscles had gone limp. A pearly white light flickered behind his eyelids.

***

_“At least we tried,” Jeno said encouragingly, setting the takeout boxes on the table next to the batteries from the smoke alarm. Their disastrous attempt at making dinner had been quickly disposed of, a few pans still steaming in the kitchen sink. “It’ll be better next time.”_

_“Next time?” Chenle groaned. “You mean we have to try again?”_

_Jeno rolled his eyes, pushing a styrofoam container across the table to him. “We’re real adults now, living on our own and everything. We can’t live off fried chicken and cup ramen for the rest of our lives.”_

_“We_ could _,” Chenle argued. “It just might make the ‘rest of our lives’ a bit shorter.”_

_“Eat your food,” Jeno laughed, “and we can try something simpler tomorrow. Maybe we can pull off pancakes.”_

_“Maybe,” Chenle assented dubiously. “That seems pretty hard to mess up.”_

_“Exactly.” Jeno leaned back and surveyed the kitchen. It was tiny and cramped, as the whole apartment was, but it was theirs._

_It didn’t quite feel like home yet, but Chenle was sure that would change soon enough. Jeno was here, after all._

***

The first thing Chenle registered as he awoke was a peculiar weight on his face, resting over his nose and mouth. The second thing he noticed was a weight on his hand—warmer, softer, and slightly damp. His eyes fluttered open to a sterile white room, almost too bright to look at with the sunlight filtering through the blinds. He scrabbled at the hard something strapped to his face with his free hand, blearily wondering what was holding the other

“Mr. Zhong, good to see you awake.” Chenle looked up to see a woman in scrubs, who he was sure wasn’t there a moment ago. “If you’ll hold still, I’ll remove your oxygen mask. You should be able to breathe fine on your own now.”

Feeling chastised, Chenle dropped his hand back to the bed as the nurse disconnected the oxygen machine. The scent of antiseptic and lemon cleaner immediately made his nose sting—or maybe that was just the lingering effects of smoke inhalation. His head now free to move, his gaze traced along his arm to his hand, trapped under the weight of a boy slumped forward against the bed, fingers entangled with Chenle’s.

“Hey,” Chenle croaked, his throat feeling like he’d tried to swallow a cactus.

Jeno looked nearly as bad as Chenle felt, with ash in his hair and a distinct stench of smoke clinging to his clothes. He was still in his pajamas, black sweatpants and an oversized red t-shirt that now bore a few scorch marks. He peeled his face from the blanket, leaving a black smear of soot on the pristine white fabric, and squinted around in disorientation for a few moments until his bloodshot eyes landed on Chenle.

“You’re awake,” Jeno rasped, although Chenle wasn’t sure. He felt like he was dreaming, maybe having another vision. “Thank god, I was so worried.”

“I’ll let your parents know,” said the nurse, a smile twitching the corner of her mouth. “I think they’re still in the waiting room, so that should give you a few minutes alone.”

Jeno, apparently just realizing that his hand was still wrapped around Chenle’s, pulled away with flaming cheeks that complimented the burn marks on his shirt. “I don’t— um.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow at him, then disappeared with a faint pop. Huh, teleportation. Probably a useful Trait for rushing from patient to patient.

“So,” Jeno ventured after a moment, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I inhaled a bunch of smoke,” Chenle replied.

“Here, you should drink this.” A glass of water plucked itself from the bedside table and bumped against Chenle’s hand. 

“Thanks.” Chenle drained the glass, the cool water soothing the sting in his throat. “What about you?” He asked, setting the glass aside. “Your house, your leg—are your parents okay?”

“They were out of town, visiting my aunt. And my leg’s fine,” Jeno lifted his foot to show a bandage wrapped around his ankle. “It was just a minor fracture, so the healers were able to mend it most of the way. They say it’ll be good as new in a week or so. The fire started from some bad wiring or something on the second floor, and the firefighters were able to keep the fire from spreading to the rest of the house so I think most of the furniture and stuff is okay.” He shrugged. “Does that answer all your questions?”

“I guess so.”

“Good,” Jeno scooted his chair closer to the bedside, “because I have a few. What the hell were you doing in my house?”

Chenle propped himself up, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “Um, I had a vision. Of your house on fire. So I went to see if you were okay.”

“That was so stupid, Chenle. What possessed you to run into a burning building? You could have died!”

“I knew I wouldn’t die,” Chenle corrected. “I’ve got to stay alive long enough to marry you, right?”

“Well,” Jeno spluttered, “by that logic, you didn’t have to come save me. I would have survived since you’ve seen me in the future.”

“But maybe if I hadn’t, that wouldn’t happen.”

“Then how could you have had the visions?”

“Because I _did_ save you.”

Jeno tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Time-related Traits are confusing.”

“Yeah,” Chenle agreed, falling back against his pillows as the memory of their argument seeped into the room like a shadow passing in front of the sun. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jeno slumped forward, scrubbing a hand across his forehead and smearing the soot. “I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that. I guess being mad at you made me feel like I had some sort of choice.”

“I get it.” Chenle forced his voice to stay neutral even as his grip on the blanket turned white-knuckled. “I know it’s kind of a lot of pressure and everything, but Jeno—” he forced his hands to unclench and took a deep breath, looking Jeno in the eye. “The Inevitabilities aren’t what matter to me, not really. Even if my Trait was superstrength or telepathy or fire manipulation—I would like you no matter what. That’s my choice.”

Jeno chewed at his bottom lip, his fingers tentatively reaching out to interlace with Chenle’s again. “Okay.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a nervous smile. “I guess I have to forgive you eventually, so it might as well be now.”

The door flew open and Chenle’s parents bustled in to fuss over him, scolding interspersed with coddling, and Jeno silently edged toward the door. Chenle caught his eye, and the message was clear: _to be continued._ Chenle couldn’t help a relieved grin. They had their whole lives ahead of them, after all; they didn’t have to figure everything out now.

***

_“We should have just eloped,” Chenle groaned, leaning his head against his headrest. In the rearview mirror, he caught a glimpse of the back windshield, where JUST MARRIED was spelled in frost despite the warmth of the evening. “Weddings are exhausting.”_

_Jeno laughed, taking one hand from the steering wheel to settle on Chenle’s thigh. “Both our mothers would have skinned us alive.”_

_“Yeah, but at least I wouldn’t have had to spend so many hours wearing a tie,” Chenle complained, tossing the offending piece of fabric into the backseat and unbuttoning his collar._

_“We’re almost home, keep your clothes on until we get there,” Jeno admonished._

_The apartment was small but cozy, and Chenle breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them._

_“Well?” Jeno asked, wrapping his arms around Chenle’s waist from behind and nuzzling against his neck. “How does the future look?”_

_Chenle leaned back into the embrace, comforted by Inevitabilities and excited by possibilities. “It looks perfect.”_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision)   
>  [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/riahsvision/)   
>  [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)


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